Truth
by Holliewood
Summary: We know most of the little details about what happened to Mimi while Roger was gone to Santa Fe, but this is Mimi’s story—through Mimi’s eyes.  Only one more chapter to post until the end, but I won't until I get a few more reviews. Rated M to be safe.
1. I'm Leaving Now For Santa Fe

A/N: This chapter is just leading up to what is to come. It's mostly intertwined with what we see in the movie/musical but is expressed through Mimi's point of view with her thoughts. DISCLAIMER: I do **not** own RENT.

Seeing Angel's life slowly seep out of her was too much for me, and now Roger's mad at me. I heard he's leaving. I have to get the facts straight—for my sake. Collins laid the final rose upon Angel's grave. The rest of us began to march away. I hustled; it was too painful.

"It's true you sold your guitar and bought a car?" I asked.

"It's true. I'm leaving now for Santa Fe," He grumbled. The words ripped my heart into pieces. Those words froze into my mind. "It's true you're with this yuppie scum?" He asked hatefully. He was talking about Benny. Of course we had something together, but that was long before I met Roger. I did lie about the dinner night with Benny. Things really did happen. Roger doesn't realize I did it for him, for us. Not taking sides, but Benny has been far more supportive than Roger.

"You said you'd never speak to him again!" Benny added.

"Not now!" I yelled. Benny wasn't the best at timing things. I rubbed my forehead as I was breaking out in a cold sweat. I need another hit. I can feel it. My body craves it. If I don't get it I could shut down.

I tried to clear my mind of anything about drugs but it wasn't working well.

"Who said you had any say in who she says things to at all?" Maureen mouthed.

"Who said you should stick your nose in other people's business?" Joanne asked.

"Who said I was talking to you?" Maureen opposed again.

"We used to have this fight each night…she never admit I existed!" Joanne explained. This scenario sounded so familiar to me. I turned to meet Joanne, nodding my head.

"He was the same way!" I noted, pointing to Roger angrily. "He was always 'runaway, hit the road, don't commit', you're full of shit!" I shouted it at his face. I could feel my blood boiling. Benny grabbed my wrist and pulled me away from Roger. Roger just turned his head hurtfully as my words smacked him. Maybe he'd see my point.

We all fought about it more before Collins stepped in. Poor Collins, he just lost the love of his life and now all of his friends were fighting.

"I can't believe this is goodbye…" We all sang together. Roger left quickly. Maureen comforted Joanne, wiping her tears. I wish I had someone to wipe my tears away—a shoulder to cry on. Anything would be nice. Instead Benny brushed me away from Roger. I couldn't help but to look back at the rock-star once more. We met eyes. My emotions were running cold. I was crying but I wasn't sure why anymore. Benny just led me out of the cemetery with one arm wrapped around my waist.

"Let's get you home." He murmured, pushing the wet strands of hair hanging in my face behind my ear. I lit up a cigarette before we got back to the loft.

The next thing I remember was waking up on my bed. I was still in the clothes I wore to the funeral. It was dark outside. I hoped to God that Roger hadn't left yet. Maybe if I go apologize he'll stay with me. Walking to the door my body throbbed and ached. Somehow I fought through the pain. Maybe it was Roger…

Approaching the sliding door to their loft I could hear Mark and Roger arguing more.

"I hear there are great restaurants out west…" Mark commented.

"Some of the best. How could she?" Roger asked in denial. Maybe he was talking about what I did at the funeral. I could feel my eyes welling with tears; the ache in my heart was coming back. He wasn't even gone and I was already longing for him.

"Mimi's gotten thin! Mimi's running out of time and you're running out the door?" I could hear Mark screaming at Roger.

"No more!" Roger yelled. "I got to go." He whispered. My heart sank. He really was leaving.

"Hey! For someone who's always been let down who is heading out of town?" It was Mark.

"For someone who's always longed for a community of his own, who's with his camera alone?" Roger mouthed. "I'll call…ugh, I hate the fall." He muttered. Suddenly the door swung open. Roger seemed stunned.

"You heard?" He asked.

"Every word…"


	2. I Need To Go Away

Chapter Two: I Need To Go Away

Just like that Roger was gone. How could he leave me on the stairwell crying in despair? I rested against the railings. My body was getting weak. I needed to sit down. I needed to sleep. I needed a hit. About that time Benny walked in the door. He put his hand out to me but I repelled.

"Please don't touch me, understand I'm scared. I need to go away…"

"I know a place—a clinic." Mark suggested.

"A rehab?" Benny asked.

"Maybe, could you?"

"I'll pay." Benny answered. With that I made my way back to my apartment. I rushed to the window to see if he had left yet. He was just pulling out of his parking spot.

"Goodbye love…Hello disease…" I sang to myself.

Benny came in as quietly as he could. Still, I heard his fancy shoes click against my scuffed hardwood floor.

"You should start packing." He whispered.

"Yeah…you're right." I replied, turning my head. My lungs seemed they were catching on fire. Maybe it was because the loft was so cold. Even though it was autumn the weather was still bone chilling. Of course going through withdrawal didn't help at all. Whatever it was, it was miserable. Crouching under the bed I found an old duffle bag. Mark came in a few minutes later with a card in his hand.

"You'll have to call to set it up." He murmured to Benny. Mark dug through a basket to get some clean clothes for me.

"Mimi, it's going to be okay. You're going to get through this and Roger's going to come back. It will all unfold in the end." Mark tried to lift my spirits but I didn't have any left; Roger took them with him to Santa Fe. I stopped packing to sit down. Mark lunged forward to help me.

"Are you feeling okay?" He asked.

"I feel like shit." I commented, wiping a last tear off of my cheek. Mark smiled and rubbed my shoulder.

"That means you're getting better."

"I hope so." I assumed sadly. Mark hugged my neck tightly. At least little Marky will always be here for me.

Benny drove me six miles away from Alphabet City to get to the rehab center. The place was small, sort of old, and rural. When I walked in a guy that was just a few years older than me greeted me. His appearance was sort of scruffy but I thought it was cute. His hair was jet black, spiked up. He had a very defined five o'clock shadow but he kept it trimmed up neatly.

"My name is Tucker. I'll be helping you in recovery."

"Where's her room?" Benny asked.

"Follow me." Tucker exclaimed. He led us down a hallway and down a set of stairs. He gave me a key.

"We believe in privacy here." He noted. Tucker opened the door for me. The room was larger than most of the ones I seen coming down the halls. Benny always knew how to treat me right no matter what.

"And what's the curfew?" I asked.

"Eleven at night. But if you're with a guide it can be extended." He said smoothly. His eyes were following my every move. He was trying his best to come onto me. Aside from him I examined my new temporary home. Well, the place didn't feel like home at all, but no better or no worse.

Benny gave me a hug goodbye and left with few words. Tucker told me a few more things about the program and about the center I was in. I didn't listen because I didn't care.

"Oh, I never got your name…"

"Mimi. Mimi Marquez."

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Ms. Marquez."

"Please…just call me Mimi." I demanded.

"Very well." Tucker said. He walked a bit closer to me. "I can tell you're going to make it Mimi." He said patting my shoulder and walking out. "Oh, at nine thirty in the morning there's a support group meeting in the main dining room. You should come visit." He added. I just wish he had left sooner. I closed the door, stripped my clothes off and landed in the bed. I fell asleep soon.

I awoke only by a knock at the door. I rolled on my back and covered my chest. I pressed my palm against my forehead. It felt like my brain was going to pop out of my head.

"Mimi? It's Tuck. It's nine…I didn't know if you wanted to come to the meeting or not." He rambled. I thought this place believed in privacy…

"Um, just come in." He walked in the door with a smile on his face, but it soon went to bedazzlement when he saw me naked in the bed with nothing but a thin white sheet to cover me.

"Uh, is this a bad time?" He asked.

"No…"

"But aren't you—"

"Yeah, that doesn't matter. I'm used to it. I was wanting a Tylenol…can you bring me one?"

"Coming right up." Tucker said, leaving the room. He never took his eyes off me until he walked completely out of the room. He returned a few minutes later with a glass of water and a Tylenol in hand.

"Thank you so much." I added sitting up, my arm across my chest so not to let the sheet fall.

"Mimi…I just want to say that this is going to be a hard road to travel, but after this you're going to feel so much better."

"I hope so." I muttered. "Now if you'll excuse me I'd like to get my clothes on now."

Tuck left in a hurry. I slipped on an old t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. I met everyone at the main dining hall for the support meeting.

"My name is Paul and I'll be your group leader. Let's introduce ourselves in a clockwise circle, tell us why you're here, how long you've been here and how your recovery is progressing." He explained. I took a seat near the middle of the group of five people.

"Frank. I was hooked on meth…I've been here for almost a year now. My progress is great I guess."

"Mary…I had a heroin addiction. I've been here three months. I haven't wanted a hit since."

"I'm Jared. I was an alcoholic for years. I'll be here nine months this coming Tuesday. I don't want to drink ever again." Crap…I'm next.

"Hi…I'm Mimi Marquez. I was a heroin and crank addict, along with slight alcoholism. My life's been hard…I guess that's why I turned to substance abuse for relief. I've only been here a day so I don't know how I'm progressing." That was the hardest part—admitting it to a group of strangers.

There were two more men after me who was addicted to meth and heroin. We all talked for a while. It wasn't anything important though. After the meeting Tucker met me by the door leading out of the dining hall. I tried to ignore him. This recovery was going to be hard enough without a sidetrack.

"Mimi!" He exclaimed, jogging to catch up with me. "Mimi there was something I need to ask you about."

"I'm all ears." I murmured with a smirk.

"Oh…okay. Um, we didn't get your work information. I was just wondering if you could answer a few questions about it."

"Sure."

"Where do you work?"

"Part time shift at the Cat Scratch Club—I dance." I replied. Tucker smiled at me.

"That's why you said you were used to be saw naked." He commented. I smiled.

"Yeah. It doesn't pay a lot for the work and the shame you have to face but it gets me by."

"I understand." Tucker paused for a while. I bit my bottom lip, ready to answer more embarrassing questions. "So, uh…no pressure or anything but I was wondering if you'd like to grab a bite to eat with me at the café when you feel like it." He proposed. I felt like walking back into Alphabet City would be too much for me. I shoved the feelings away.

"Sure…I'd like that."

"See you in a few days?"

"Yeah." I shouted walking away from him. I threw a hand in the air and motioned a wave.

That night I had called Tucker to my room to help me with my spasms. He held me close to his chest, his warm breath falling on the nape of my neck. The shakes aren't as bad if you have someone to help you. I sat in a fetal position for a while, shaking and crying. He told me to focus on his heart. Once I did they died down and I became sleepy. Tucker slowly laid me on my side. He pulled up the blankets and grabbed the cold wet washcloth.

"I promise that this will all pass soon." He said wiping the sweat from my head. My body was hot but the sweat ran cold.

"Tuck?"

"Yeah Mimi?"

"How do you know how to help me?" I asked. Tucker smirked at me before dabbing my cheek with the washcloth. He took in a sharp breath.

"Believe it or not I was in the exact same position as you about a year ago. I ran with the big dogs. I did the hard stuff. It's a shame I threw away three years of my life like that."

"Really?"

"Yep. I chose your case because you sounded like me. I know exactly what you're going through."

I fell asleep soon after he explained it. Though I was out of it I could feel the small kiss he left me. Upon awakening the next morning, my body throbbed, my head was still dully aching, and my lungs didn't feel as raw as they did the first day. I tried to get out of bed but I was far too weak. Tucker passed by and saw me. He helped me. His strong arms around me felt so good. Tucker led me to the dining room where he sat me at a table by myself. Looking up I saw a girl walk in. She looked a bit tacky by my standards. Her hair was fixed to look messy, her clothes ripped and faded. She wore a pair of old converse shoes and heavy eyeliner and makeup. She saw me sitting by myself and started walking over to me.

"Howdy stranger. When did you get here?" She asked.

"Two days ago. I'm Mimi Marquez."

"Cassandra Hope. Why you here?"

"Drug addiction treatment."

"Me too! I've been here about a half of a year. I'd guess you're feeling pretty shitty right about now."

"You guessed right." I said with a smile.

"Yeah, honey, I've been here for a while and they say I'm not even half way done. If I were you, I'd so sneak out of this hell hole ASAP."

"I'm trying to get clean for my boyfriend." I replied. I began to look off in the distance.

"He's gone isn't he?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, turning my attention back to her.

"He left you, didn't he?"

It took me a while to register the question. I guess all of these years were of using were catching up with me a little too quickly.

"Yeah…he went to Santa Fe. Don't ask why."

"I had a boyfriend once. He got me hooked on smack, got me pregnant and left me. I still hold a special place for him in my heart."

"I'm sorry."

"It's no biggie. I have to go. I have a visitation with my son. I hope to see you soon."

"You too." I sighed. Tucker returned with a cup of coffee a few seconds after Cassandra left.

"I see you met Cassandra." He said with a smile. He placed the coffee cup in front of me. I gripped it.

"Yes, I did. She's nice."

"She's a colorful person."


	3. Gussying Up

Chapter Three: Gussying Up

I was finally able to walk without Tucker's help after another day. I told him I wanted to go out tonight. When seven rolls around we'll be sipping coffee in a café. It was already six thirty. I figured I better strike on him hard. I put on a tighter black knee length dress that shaped to my figure. My bra helped my cleavage boost and I wore some simple black pumps. Putting on a bit of eyeliner and lip-gloss I headed out of the door. Tucker met me in the entrance. He was stunned to see me.

"You look amazing." He commented. I felt my cheeks blush.

"You look handsome yourself." I replied. I wasn't lying either, he did look hot. He wore a dressy sweater and kaki pants with classic black shoes. His eyes were deep brown just like mine. Now I knew what it was like to stare into my own eyes. Tucker drove us to the small café just a mile or two down the road. We ordered hot chocolate and coffee. We spent the whole time talking. Tucker brushed my hand a few times with his. It felt good to be with someone else.

We left at around ten that night. Tuck paid the bill and I awaited him outside. We stood in front of the café under the streetlight.

"You're so beautiful." He complimented once again. He tried to move a bit closer to me.

"Thank you for everything."

"Anytime." He muttered. At this time we were inches away from kissing each other. Tuck leaned in but I didn't know if I could do it or not. I still love Roger. I could feel my lip brush against his. I went on and filled in the gap, connecting our lips for the one innocent kiss. Tucker broke away for a while. I could feel a sensation rising through my body. I wanted Tucker and I could tell he wanted me. He kissed me once more.

"Want to go back now or do you want to wait?" He asked. I flashed a risqué smile.

"Can we take a detour?"

"As you wish."


	4. Helpless

Chapter Four: Helpless

Tucker and I ended up at his apartment. He showed me around and offered a few screwdrivers. I didn't even feel a buzz but I acted as if I were a little drunk. We ended up making out on the couch. I put my hands on his hips and he ran his hand down my side. He lowered me into the couch, taking my jacket off for me. I ran my hand up and back down his side but stopped when Roger's face flashed in my mind.

"Tucker…I can't…" I murmured ripping away from the deep kisses.

"Is it me?"

"No…it's me. I'm so sorry. Roger…" I whispered under my breath.

"Excuse me?" Tucker asked.

"My boyfriend Roger…he's in Santa Fe…what if he comes back and finds out?"

"Mimi, if Roger's the one that made you into the girl that you were you need to forget about him. I can make you forget if you want." The words flowed off of his lips so smoothly. I was drawn under his hypnosis, but quickly snapped out of it when I seen Roger's face again.

"I'm sorry…I just can't…" I muttered, trying to get off of the couch. He pushed me back on the couch roughly. I used all of my strength and gripped his arm with both of my hands and tried to shove him off, but I was still far too weak. He had straddled me then, took both of my arms and lifted them above my head. "Let me go, Tucker." I ordered. He smiled evilly. Fear ran cold in my blood.

"You know if you just cooperate it won't be as bad…" His sinister tone lingered in my head. My heart pounded against my chest.

"No…Tucker, let me go!" I screamed, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. Nothing was working.

He shifted so he was holding both of my arms with one hand. And he began to reach up my dress with his other hand, fooling with the rim of my underwear.

"Get the fuck off of me!" I yelled. He quickly moved his hand up to my mouth and pressed on it hard.

"Shut up, you little bitch…" He murmured. Mascara tears ran down my cheeks with small cries from behind his palm. It was becoming hard to breathe. I pretended to calm down a bit so he would uncover my mouth. He did so, moving his hand back underneath my dress and pulling my panties down more. That's when he set a firm kiss on my pursed unwilling lips. I spit in his face. He gave me a small, hard slap to the face. I cried out more, and he covered my mouth again.

"Don't make me get rough," Tucker threatened.

Tucker unzipped his pants and was quick to get down to business. I could feel myself being ripped apart. My body tensed, every inch aching as more tears spread down my cheeks. I yelped, which caused him to clamp his hand over my mouth again. I let out an intense squeal of pain. He didn't stop…

It took Tucker five minutes to scar my life forever. He was in the bathroom, and I was left on his couch throbbing in pain. I cried silently, trying to get up. As I looked around I noticed he had a few twenties anchored down by his ashtray. I grabbed it quickly, and using all of my strength, all of my will power I pulled up my underwear and limped for the door. I swung the door wide open, not caring if it made a sound.

I quietly made my way onto the streets, crying, sick, scarred. Seeing the welcoming yellow glow of a taxi sign, I raised my hand to hail it and asked for a lift to Alphabet.

"Are you sure, Miss? It's a long drive…it's going to cost you." The cab driver recommended.

"I have money. I need to go." I replied quickly. He shrugged his shoulders and began to drive. About half of the way there he began to ask questions.

"What are you going to Alphabet City for? I hear that place is a piece of shit."

"I have unfinished business there." I murmured. I began to flash back at the past few days. At the time it seemed like all I could do was run. Run my way into Alphabet, run my way out of rehab, and run myself away from Tucker. Truth was I needed to erase the past hour of my life with something good and I knew just the place to get it. I began to shake my leg in hopes that the driver would speed it up. The burning desire for the smack was flaming within me.

"Can you step on it? I'm sort of in a hurry."

"Sure thing, Miss." He never hesitated.


	5. Back Home

Chapter Four: Back Home

I stepped out of the cab, giving him fifty dollars for the lift. I exited near the Cat Scratch Club. I needed to work a shift first, see if I could get a pay in advance—or better—a free hit from one of the call girls there. Either option was music to my ears. I sauntered in quickly. Becky was dancing on the stage, swinging her small frame around the pole for the crowed of horny men that waved the money in the air. A few girls were in the cages. I kept walking, taking off my heels so I wasn't as likely to trip on the wrinkled red carpet. In certain spots the carpet was pulled up, revealing the concrete beneath it. There were cracks in the wall—along with holes, scratch marks, stains and many other things I dared not to ask about.

I could smell the mold and mildew from the outside of Rick's office. I knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's Mimi. I need to talk to you." I answered. I heard muffled steps and the door swung open. He had already been paying on of the call girls to sit with him and maybe do him a few special 'favors' while she was at it. All he had to do was flash a twenty dollar bill to any girl he wanted and she'd gladly give up her dignity for it around here.

"Mimi, you look horrible…where the hell have you been?" He asked with surprise. His loud, raspy voice was enough to make you cringe.

"Rehab." I mumbled.

"Oh…so you're clean now?"

"Eh…trying." I replied quickly. There was a short pause between us.

"So what do you need to talk to me about?"

"Can I work some extra shifts?"

"Sure thing, babe. The regulars have been asking about you." He explained. I faked a smile. I was one of the more famous girls of CSC.

"So when can I start?"

"I'll give you a hundred advance, and you can start tomorrow night." Rick slurred, getting his wallet out of his back pocket.

"See you tomorrow." I said, and left the Cat Scratch Club.

As soon as I left CSC I picked up my stash. Starting back to my old loft, I realized something…

"Fuck…" I said aloud. What was I thinking? I can't go back there! Mark will find me and he'll shield me from what I need most. I began walking the other direction quickly. There was a nice spot under a bench behind a few trees in the park. I raced to the small dry spot with haste. My supplies were scarce. I used my jacket as a sheet. Gathering my thoughts I made my fix quickly. I used my purse strap to find a vein; tying it around my arm I tapped my bicep in hopes of seeing the blue tubes. I never get it on the first try. I keep trying—and after the fourth time I found one. I put the sharp needle to my arm and slid it in. The sensation of the needle breaking my skin made me wince and take a sharp breath. After the needle was in my arm I had already gotten fifty percent of the job done. I pushed the plastic further into the cylinder, feeling the substance fill my veins. My body went numb. I was sober enough to take the syringe out and throw it aside. A few minutes later I fell over and slipped into a drug-induced sleep.

I awoke with dew settled on my skin. I felt grimy, nasty on the outside, but internally I felt human again. I could sense no pain, no sorrow. I got up and went to the department store and bought a bag, two shirts and one pair of pants. I changed in the bathroom and walked out trying to decide what to do with my spare time. I wished I could go back to Roger and confess my sin. He would be so ashamed of me. Who am I kidding? He's not even here. I keep walking down the streets. I decided to trek beside the old lofts. When I did I swear I could hear the out of tune Muzetta's Waltz being picked off the old Fender. I shrugged it off. I knew I was just hearing things.

Nightfall came quick and I needed another hit. My mind began to drift. I started to wonder about Tucker. I wondered about how Mark was since Roger left. I wondered about if Maureen and Joanne ever made up. Did Collins ever settle down? The thoughts kept racing through my head. It began to drive me insane. When I snapped back into reality I was standing in front of him. He greeted me with an unusually warming smile. You'd think a man in his position wouldn't even know how to smile as stone cold as his heart is.

"Back again?" He asked.

"Yeah." I replied quickly, scratching my arm and reaching for the twenty in my pocket.

"I meant to ask you earlier and I forgot, but where have you been?"

"Rehab." I murmured speedily yet again. There was a silence between us.

"It's for Roger, isn't it?"

"I tried, you know? It was the best I could do." I explained with tears in my eyes. He nodded.

"They all try, but they all come back…" With that I gave him my twenty dollars and he gave me the baggy of poison. Taking my spot behind the park bench, I quickly conjured the drug, and injected the toxin into my bloodstream.

Before I knew it I was standing in front of the Cat Scratch Club with my bags at my side. I rubbed my sleepy eyes and stepped through the front door. Seeing an unlit booth with a small piece of paper that read my name on it, I sat my bag in the fold up stage chair. I opened it; shuffling around inside of it I grabbed my dress and made a quick trip to the old moldy bathroom. I shut the door behind me, finding the rest of my bindle inside of my pocket. There was only a little left so I decided to snort it up before I washed my face off.

I ran the water for a few minutes before actually touching it. After it cleared up I dipped my hands into it, cupping them so the water was to collect in my palms. I then raised my hands and lowered my face into the cold water. I rubbed my face with my wet hands. Using my jacket to dry my face, I modified my black dress so it was suitable enough to work on stage. I ripped the bottom of it so it nearly showed my ass, and I tightened my bra for extra cleavage boost. After applying eyeliner and a bit of dark eye shadow, I was ready to go on stage. I smoothed my hands down my side, looked at myself in the mirror, and watched the emotionless tears run down my face.

As I walked onto stage I wiped the tears away. The music blared. I jumped onto the silver pole, twirling my thin body around it with ease. The spotlight was on me. I seductively walked toward the stairs, kicking my tan leg high in the air, showing off my tiny underwear. Lying on my stomach, I stretched out my arms and balanced myself on the railings while sliding down. Once I reached the bottom, I gripped the rails tightly and tossed myself off of them. It felt good to be back.

Walking up to center stage, I got on my hands and knees. I was eyeing one particular customer, younger, short spiky red hair, gray eyes set off by thick black frame glasses that were hot instead of nerdy, white teeth, small stubble of a beard. He was cute with his empty stare. He watched my every graceful move. I crawled toward him, licking my plump lips and smiling with a vixen glare in my eye. You see, when you're an S&M dancer, you learn how to put that jazz in your looks, that sexy gracefulness in your moves. After a while, seduction is just a game to you, and you can play that game to gain nearly anything you want.

I sat straight up, spinning my body around so I let my legs hang off stage. Scooting off stage, I walked to him. He smiled with warmth that was so comforting it reminded me of hot summer nights on the rooftops with the man of my dreams. I straddled him, sitting on his lap with my legs spread open, looking at him face to face. I leaned my head close to his. He tilted his to the side, knowing exactly what I was doing.

"What's your name, sweetie?" I purred with a low, smooth, stimulating tone. I could sense that he felt a tingling sensation that started from his ear and went through the rest of his body. I could hear a low grumble deep in his throat.

"Adam." He mumbled. I purposely scooted closer to his pelvis and leaned back a bit.

"Adam…would you like a special treat?" I asked, tracing my finger down the middle of his chest. Again, there was that low grumble deep in his throat. Clearly he had never had this kind of attention from a woman before, and he was enjoying it.

"Of course." He whispered. I smiled, sat back up, and got off of his lap. Caressing his hand, I limply took hold of it, and pulled him toward the back room.

The back rooms were small but big enough to get business done with. Rick didn't care what went on in there; he just wanted his fair share of the money. Lining the chipped black painted walls are beat up burgundy booths. There was a small pole, a red light, and a mirror. I walked him in. Shutting the door behind me I pushed him onto the booth. He caught himself with his rather buff arms, and climbed backward so he could sit against the backrest.

I teased him with starting with my dress strap, slowing sliding it past my shoulder. His smile was becoming bigger with each move I made. I found the zipper to the dress, which was cut low in the back for easy access. I unzipped my dress from the back, but still held it up limply with my arm. I moved closer to him, letting my arm fall as the dress fell off as well. I spun around, putting my rear near him and slowly bending over. I felt a light touch to my thigh, which made my heart flutter with excitement. I looked back at him with a smile, and he smiled back.

In less than three minutes I was naked and working my body all over him in any way I could. I ran my hand up Adam's shirt, and he moved his head closer to mine. It was a kiss so sweet I didn't want it to stop, but I pulled away only to tease his pants a bit.

My time was becoming close for a break, so with another kiss we ended the deal. I dressed and he stood up, sliding his hands on my hips gently from behind me. I turned to see his face.

"Again…tomorrow?" He asked. I ran my hand around his waist.

"I'll be here." I said. He hugged me, giving me a hefty tip and the regular pay. I returned to the dressing rooms to change back into my newer clothes.

I ended up sauntering out of CSC around two thirty in the morning. On my way 'home' I stopped by the alley for a quick fix. He let me off easy this time, giving me a bit more than what I paid for. I could feel the blood itching in my veins as I walked back for my place under the park bench, noticed it was taken, and so went behind a statue not too far away. Taking my seat, I quickly melted the smack into the liquid puddle on the spoon and slurped it up with the needle. Tying a scarf around my arm, I saw my veins surface. Sliding the needle into the bend of my arm, I injected the toxin into my veins hopefully for the last time.

The beating of my heart was slowed…I couldn't feel anything anymore. My whole body was numbed. My bloodshot eyes scanned the area. Cold sweats breaking out all over my body. The weather was cold, and the only reason I knew that was because I could see a mist of my breath. The occasional couple would walk by in their puffy jackets lined with fur. They'd be cuddled into each other, warm and happy while I saw here with my thin robe, cold and alone. Darkness fell with haste. Snow was settled on the ground. Homeless shelters were over crowded, leaving no room for me. The back alleys were filled; all of the tattered once abandoned mattresses were taken. I sat in the park behind the statue on the cold snow. My clothes were soaked with sweat and the melted snow but I paid no attention. I could feel my life tightening…what I had been hoping for since Roger left was finally coming. I only hoped a compete stranger found me before Roger did…


	6. Oh my God, Pookie, is that

Chapter Five: 'Oh my God, Pookie, is that—'

Looking up at the streetlight I was trying to make out figures of it. I could see Roger's face. He'd be so ashamed of me. If I could just see him one last time to tell him how truly sorry I was for being so foolish. The sounds of horns and boots clanking against the hard concrete behind me was all I could hear. The smell of exhaust fumes and piss lurked in the air, it filled my burning nostrils. Every inch of my body ached. I was weak—emotionally, physically, physiologically…that's why I needed Roger. I needed someone to punish me…someone to help me. He doesn't care about me anymore. He has disowned me. That's another great reason on my list of excuses to die.

The noises of faint conversations began to sink in. All of the sudden, out of the blue, my ears automatically tuned to a familiar voice, the welcoming, shuddering shriek of the drama queen.

"Oh my God, Pookie, is that—"

"Mimi!" The lawyer shouted. The footsteps raced nearer and nearer.

"Mimi? Oh my God, Mimi! Can you hear me?" Joanne rambled. I weakly nodded my head. My own head became too heavy for me to hold up.

"Mimi, we're taking you to the hospital." Maureen insisted. I shook my head. Joanne's face shrunk.

"Roger…" I managed to mumble. Maureen looked at Joanne with a worried gaze.

"It's what she wants." Joanne muttered. Finally, someone who understood me.

"But we can take her to the hospital and call Roger there!"

"No…if it's Roger she wants…its Roger she gets."

"She can get Roger at a hospital!" Maureen fussed.

"No…" I heaved. Joanne looked up at Maureen with a smirk spread on her lips.

"We need to move fast…" Jo ordered. My eyelids longed to close. I barely heard the last few words Joanne had to say before I fell unconscious for a moment. "…she doesn't have much time…"

Startling me awake without another word, Maureen helped Joanne lift my weak body off of the ground. Maureen sighed when she took her hand under my thighs. My eyes shot open, looking wildly at the two women. Maureen had a disgruntled look upon her face.

"She's soaked."

"We need to move quickly." Joanne remarked. Things began to grow dimmer. I snuggled in tightly against Joanne's chest. Right when I was about to fall asleep, Maureen began to scream. I shut my eyes. The loud screech of her voice made my head pound.

"Mark?" Maureen shouted. "Roger?" She shouted again. He really was back. At least my wish was granted. "Anyone? Help!" She screamed. I saw the boys ran out on the balcony. I sighed with relief to see his small figure up there. "We can't get her up the stairs. Hurry up, please!" Maureen yelled. They were down the stairs in a matter of seconds. I felt two of them take me in their arms.

"She's been living on the street. We found her in the park, she wanted to come here." Joanne explained.

They carried me up the stairs all of the way to the loft. I heard the door slide open.

"No room on the couch!"

"Uh…just clear off the table. We'll put her there." Mark responded. There was shuffling, clanking and scratching.

"Roger…" I murmured weakly. He put me on the table.

"I'm back. I'm back…" He said softly. It was so comforting to hear his voice again.

"Rog!" Collins yelped, giving me his jacket for heat.

"We need some heat…" Roger demanded.

"Okay, I'll find some wood and some food." Mark said, running to the door.

"Too late for that, man I'm calling 911." Collins said. Roger took a seat at my side, his broad hand on my cheek.

"I'm right here! I'm right here! It's okay…" He mumbled to me. His soothing words warmed my heart, but the rest of my body remained partially numb. "Here, we got you…we got you…" He muttered stroking my hair out of my face. I felt of his rough face just to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

"I should tell you, I should tell you…" I sang weakly. I could see Roger's heart melt in his eyes. I clenched his leather jacket with all of my strength. He smirked at me.

"I should tell you, I should tell you…" He quietly sang back. I swallowed hard, hoping to take a terrible taste out of my mouth.

"I should tell you, Benny wasn't any—"

"Shhh…I know…I should tell you why I left, it wasn't 'cause I didn't—"

" I know," I interrupted him. "I should tell you…"

"I should tell you."

"I should tell you…I…love…you…" I whispered. It burned my throat but I was finally able to talk to him one last time.

"Who do you t h i n k y o u a r e…" He began to speak but the words got longer as he went on. Soon, I couldn't hear much. He was singing me a song…the song it took him the whole year to write. His voice was so warming but I could feel nothing. I was sweating but I was cold. Roger continued to sing…he really cared.

A/N: The spacing in Roger's last line of the paragraph was meant to be this way to signify that the speech is growing further and further apart.

What do you think?


End file.
